


Triggers

by IJM



Category: General Hospital
Genre: Childhood Sexual Abuse, Dissociation, Emotional triggers, Gen, Repression, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 06:51:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17761904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IJM/pseuds/IJM
Summary: The title says it all.





	Triggers

**Author's Note:**

> Not for profit.  
> No claim of ownership. 
> 
> My emotional response to today's show was physically painful. Therefore, I had to write. It's in the title. This is about being triggered to relive horrible aspects of your past that you may have thought you had overcome. When I see someone else hurting (even a character), I hurt. I'm particularly sensitive to the issues of sexual abuse and confidentiality of records. If you are easily triggered, I honestly suggest you not read this (even though I love when people read my stories and enjoy them).

“I brought a doctor to talk to you,” Jordan told Franco. “This is Dr. Neil Byrne.” She unlocked the cell and Dr. Byrne went inside and sat down on the cot.

Franco was sitting in the corner of his cell with his pillow behind his back and his blanket around him. He had not eaten for days. Jordan had accused him of trying to get himself put in the hospital. He only shrugged and told her he couldn’t eat. Then he seemed to zone out again.

“Mr. Baldwin, I’m here to talk to you and see if you’re ill. You can call me Neil.”

Franco didn’t respond to him.

Jordan sighed heavily. “I’ll leave you to it,” she said, leaving the holding area. However, she went straight to the surveillance equipment to watch the exchange.

“Is there a reason you won’t eat?” Neil asked.

Franco refused to answer. He wasn’t going to trust another doctor so easily.

“I’m here until I get to the bottom of whatever is causing your behavior. I get paid by the hour. I don’t mind sitting in silence.”

“I can’t,” Franco told him flatly.

“Are you physically ill?”

“It won’t go down or it won’t stay down. I’m sure they don’t want me to puke all over the floor.”

“You’re feeling nauseated?”

“Stuck,” Franco answered. He put his hand to his throat. “Everything is stuck right here.”

“What is everything?”

“Shame. Fear. Lies. Truth. Life. Death.”

“Whose life and death?”

“Mine.  I can barely breathe. I can’t swallow. I’m going to suffocate.”

“There’s no physical reason for you to suffocate,” Neil assured him.

“I have to pay.”

“For what?”

“For telling the truth. It was a secret. A special secret.” He gagged on the words.

“What secret?

“Uncle Jim.”

“Your mother’s boyfriend?” Neil prodded. Jordan had allowed him to read Franco’s file.

Franco whimpered. “You’re not supposed to know. No one is supposed to know.” He looked at the man for the first time with tears in his eyes, “It was the truth.”

“I believe you.”

“No, you don’t. Uncle Jim said if I told everyone would know I was lying. He said they would punish me. He said I would go to hell and burn in a lake of fire.”

“Do you believe in heaven and hell?”

“God wouldn’t have made Jim Harvey. Everything is hell. I just have to start the fire and melt into it.”

“Where are you going to start a fire.”

Franco glared at him like he was stupid. “Here.”

“There are no matches.”

“I’ll find a way. I need accelerant. Gasoline. Alcohol. Paint thinner, of course. That would be appropriate, right? Paint thinner.” He laughed loudly. Too loudly.

“Paint thinner is funny?” Neil quizzed.

“It’s perfect, right? I can douse myself in paint thinner and light the match. Then I can become my own work of art.”

Dr. Byrne was taken aback. “You mean, set yourself on fire?” He was not surprised that this patient was thinking of suicide but setting oneself on fire was highly unusual in Western culture.

“I have to pay for my sins, like Uncle Jim said. If I hadn’t told the truth, I wouldn’t be here. No one was supposed to find out. I had to keep the secret. But I didn’t. And now I have to die.”

“Why do you have to die for telling the truth? The truth will set you free, right?”

“I’m in prison for a crime I didn’t commit. It’s Uncle Jim taking retribution for my unfaithfulness. I didn’t keep the secret, so now he’s making sure everyone knows.”

“Jim Harvey is dead.”

“And he wants me dead too. I have to do what he says, or I’ll get in trouble.”

“Is Uncle Jim telling you to set yourself on fire?”

Franco nodded. “Did you hear him too?”

“I didn’t. Can you tell me more about what he said to you?”

“I’m evil.” His eyes darkened. “But I wasn’t evil before he came along.”

“What were you like before Uncle Jim?”

“I had a brother. My twin brother, Andy. He was my best friend.” He stared as his own knees. “Then she brought him home. And we had to call him Uncle Jim. But he wasn’t our uncle. And he didn’t love our mother. She loved him most of all. He said she would believe him, and she did. I wasn’t trying to be bad. I was trying to help Andy. Uncle Jim was going to hurt him. I only wanted him to hide. I didn’t want Uncle Jim to hurt him.”

“Like Uncle Jim hurt you?”

He looked at Dr. Byrne and nodded.

“How did he hurt you?”

Franco shook his head. “I’m not allowed to say.”

“You told someone before.”

“That’s why I have to die now.” His eyes became wide. “They all know. They’re talking about me. They can look at me and they can see him, and they know what I am. I’ve got to hide. I can’t let anyone see me, so I have to go away.”

“You don’t have to die to go away,” Neil told him.

“I do,” Franco said, sure of himself. “I can’t live here. They know what I did. “

“What did you do?”

He shook his head. “I was bad. Except, I was a good boy. But then I was a bad boy for being a good boy. It was very confusing. I don’t know if I was good or bad, but I felt bad.”

“Bad, how?”

“Dirty. And I can’t get clean. I’ll never be clean again. They’ll look at me and they’ll all see that I’m dirty because they found out the truth. And I have to die now. I have to burn in hell now.”

“Franco, you can’t set yourself on fire. You wouldn’t be able to handle the pain.”

“There’s no pain,” Franco told him.

“I don’t understand,” Neil was hoping for clarification.

“Well, if the fire is here,” He indicated his body. “And I’m there,” He pointed toward the ceiling. “Then I don’t have to feel any pain.”

“You’ll be on fire.”

He shrugged. “You don’t know. You don’t have to feel anything if you leave.”

“Leave where?”

“Here,” He indicated himself again.

“Do you mean leave your body?”

He nodded. “And I’ll watch it die. And all the bad stuff will die.”

“Is the bad stuff you?

“It’s on me. Inside me. It’s him.  And he’s always there. Sometimes, just out of nowhere. He’ll tap me on the shoulder or touch me. He’s a ghost, I guess. But I feel him. So, I try really hard to make him go away. But I can’t make him go away anymore.”

“Why not?”

“I let him out.”

“From where?”

“Here.” Franco pointed to his head. “When he was in there, they couldn’t hurt me.”

“Who are they?”

“All of them. The ones who found out because I told. I wasn’t supposed to tell. I was supposed to die instead. He said he would punish me for telling. I was bad. I didn’t keep the secret.”

“How are they going to hurt you?”

“They said I did bad things that I didn’t do. That’s punishment for the bad things I did. He said I would be punished. He was right. I thought maybe it was a lie because I think he used to lie about other things. Like he said I hurt Andy on purpose. But I didn’t.  Andy and I would never hurt each other. Uncle Jim hurt me, and he was going to hurt Andy next. I couldn’t let him hurt Andy. I love Andy. I had to protect him.”

“You did protect Andy.”

“But she believed him. She thought I tried to hurt Andy, so she sent Andy away. And I was stuck with just her and him because she didn’t know he was doing the bad stuff.  Or she didn’t want to know.”

“Did you ever ask your mother why she let him stay around you?”

“She would have cried. I couldn’t make her cry.”

“It sounds like you protected Andy and you protected your mother from crying. That doesn’t sound like a bad person to me.”

“It doesn’t matter. He killed me anyway.”

“Who did?”

“Uncle Jim.”

 “How did he kill you?”

“He kept hurting me. He hurt me and hurt me and hurt me, and I died. It was the only way to stop hurting.”

“You’re not dead.”

“Bobby is dead. He killed Bobby.”

“Who are you?”

“What’s left.”

“You’re not Bobby?”

“I’m what’s left of Bobby. The bad parts.”

“I think I’m confused.” Dr. Byrne told him. “What are the good parts?”

Franco looked at him with a completely blank expression. He was silent for a minute or so. He tilted his head, having given it great thought. “There aren’t any.”

“You don’t think there’s anything good about you?”

“Not when they know what happened. That’s all anyone will see. They only see the bad parts. That’s why they think I did bad things. I was bad then, so they think I’m bad now. Only bad little boys do what I did, what Uncle Jim made me do.” He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and looked at Dr. Byrne. “I didn’t want to do what I had to do.”

“I believe you,” Neil assured him.

“Why didn’t I die then, when Bobby died?”

“Maybe you had a destiny to fulfill,” Neil suggested. “You have a lovely fiancé. Three soon to be stepsons that need a dad.”

“The boys are going to hate me.”

“Why?”

“Because I did what Uncle Jim said. And that makes me… disgusting and weak and ugly. When they see me, they won’t love me anymore.”

“Elizabeth loves you. Andy loves you.”

“They’re going to be embarrassed. They will be ashamed of me. It was okay when it was just them that knew, but if everybody knows, then it’s… it’s got to be dealt with.”

“How?”

Franco sighed heavily. “Haven’t you been paying attention? I told you, I have to die.”

“I’ve been paying attention,” the doctor assured him. “You can’t die in here.”

“Of course, I can,” Franco laughed.

“There are no weapons.”

“I can be my own weapon, idiot.” Franco snapped.

“How would you do that?”

Franco studied the cell. It was sparse. “I will have to break my own neck.”

“How could you possibly do that?”

“It can be done. I’m not telling.” He sounded petulant.

The doctor also studied the cell. “You have me worried.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. It won’t even be messy.”

“Would you let me help you?”

“Can you bring the paint thinner and a lighter?” Franco asked, hopefully.

“I don’t want to help you kill yourself.”

“You’re pretty useless then.” He turned away from him and chose to look at the cinderblock wall instead.

“I want to help you not want to kill yourself. Your fiancé would miss you very much if you did that.”

“I love her,” Franco said sincerely. “I wanted to make her happy, take care of her, protect her. But I was too messed up. Someone like me shouldn’t hope for better. We shouldn’t even think about better. It’s like a bubble in the wind. You might catch it for a moment, but then it will pop and there’s nothing left. You can barely tell it was ever there at all.”

“I think you can get better,” Neil told him. “I think you can have better.”

“You’re stupid.” Franco said sorrowfully. “Uncle Jim won’t let me have better. He let me taste it, so it would hurt more to lose it all.”

“Uncle Jim doesn’t have any control over your life.”

“He’s controlled my entire life,” Franco replied angrily. “He put that darkness inside me. He put that anger inside me. Bobby had to die because it was the only way to survive.”

“I’m really confused now,” Neil told him. “How did Bobby survive if he died?”

Franco huffed at him like he was finding the man’s stupidity very annoying. “When Bobby died, so did all the things that Bobby knew. So, when I let him speak, he said too much. And now I’m here because Bobby did bad things and he talked about it.”

“Franco, do you remember how old you were when Uncle Jim came into your life?”

“Three.”

“That’s very young. I bet you were a small child then.”

“Three-year-old kids are small,” Franco told him in a hushed whisper, trying to point out the obvious without making the doctor feel even more stupid.

“Can you talk to me about what he did to you when you were three years old?”

Franco recoiled. “No,” he said quickly. “No. No. No. That’s… no.”

“I don’t think any three-year-old child should be hurt by an adult man. What do you think?”

“Of course not. But he did hurt me. He really did. I didn’t make it up.”

“I believe you. I’m just trying to tell you, I don’t think you did something bad. I think he did something bad. He was bigger and stronger than you. You couldn’t stop him.”

“I tried,” Franco was pleading with the doctor now. “I really tried. Don’t you believe me?”

“Yes, of course I believe you. You knew something was wrong and you didn’t want it to happen.”

“I didn’t want to be special.”

“I know that.”

“I wouldn’t let him make Andy special.”

“That’s because you are a good brother.”

“But, if I was good, why did he hurt me?”

“Because he was bad. And he lied. He made you believe things that were not true.”

“It was true. Why can’t you see that?” Franco asked, desperate for someone to understand.

“Help me see it.”

“He said no one would believe me. My mom didn’t believe me. I told her I didn’t mean to hurt Andy. I told her Uncle Jim hurt me. She told me to be quiet. She told me I lied. She let Uncle Jim punish me. She told me she needed Uncle Jim because he took care of us. She said he was good to us.” He paused for a moment. “He wasn’t good to me.”

“See, Franco?” Neil latched onto his last statement. “Somewhere inside, you know Uncle Jim was not a good man. You know he was not good to you. Why won’t you let yourself believe it?”

“Kevin made me believe it and then Kevin said I was evil. But I wasn’t. Kevin lied. But they believe Kevin because Kevin isn’t bad like me. I can’t be happy. Uncle Jim will never let me be happy. He’s always going to be there. He’s going to touch me when I’m falling asleep just to remind me that he can. Then, he’s going to be in my dreams because I can’t get away from him. He’s going to be in my art. He’s just there. I can’t escape. I’m never going to escape. He owns me.” He lowered his voice again and looked Neil Byrne in his eyes. “And they know. They won’t let me forget now either. They’re going to punish me for what Uncle Jim did. I’m just rotten and no good. That’s why I must die. Will you help me, please? Will you?”

“Franco, I’m going to come back soon and help you. Promise you won’t do anything to hurt yourself while I’m gone. In fact, I’m going to get this nice guard to watch so you don’t hurt yourself.”

Franco followed him with his eyes. “Bring the paint thinner and lighter,” he whispered. “Don’t forget.”

Dr. Byrne met Jordan, Elizabeth, and Drew in Jordan’s office. Drew has insisted on taking Elizabeth to the police station to support her and Franco any way he could.

Elizabeth was dangerously composed considering what she had just heard while the psychiatrist was talking to Franco. Drew was not hiding his distress as well. He knew, in brief, that Bobby had endured abuse to protect him. He had no idea the severity of the damage or the extent of the irrational thoughts that Franco would use to torture himself.

“What do you think?” Jordan asked Dr. Byrne.

“We have to put him in a hospital immediately. If there’s a way to kill himself in that jail cell, he will find it.”

“That fire thing, though. You don’t think he’s acting? Who would set themselves on fire?”

“It’s rare, but it happens. When he’s talking about himself as separate entities, one that can watch and not feel pain and the other that does feel pain, he’s describing the defense mechanism of dissociation. Part of the mind dissociates and that allows the event to be repressed.”

“So, are you saying he has like a split personality?” Jordan seemed skeptical, surprised, and alarmed all at the same time.

“I don’t think so. I think he repressed his childhood memories, that part of himself he thinks of as Bobby. He let Bobby speak and now he feels he’s being persecuted.”

“ **Feels** he’s being persecuted?” Elizabeth snapped onto those last words. “I think putting an innocent man in jail and passing around his psychiatric records is true persecution. He’s not delusional.”

Drew put his hand on her shoulder to steady her—or himself.

Dr. Byrne looked uncomfortable. “Ms. Webber, I think he is delusional right now. You heard him.”

Elizabeth looked at Jordan. “You realize that four days ago, he was fine. He was happy, helping our kids, planning our wedding, working with his patients, and helping them through trauma. You jumped to a conclusion without any verifiable evidence and now he’s… worse than I’ve ever seen him before.  He’s reliving trauma that he’s been trying to overcome.  That’s on you.”

“We were trying to catch the real killer by making him think we were going to convict Franco.”

“Did you consider telling him that?” Drew asked. “Or were you just going to let him think his life as he knows it was over? That’s got to be unethical. Cruel, even.”

“At what cost? His life? His life isn’t worth as much as someone else’s? Tell that to my boys. Tell it to me or Drew. You’re an embarrassment to law enforcement. You’re not going to have your badge much longer, so you better start checking the job listings. Your incompetence has made him your scapegoat and you broke him. You’re worse than Jim Harvey, Jordan Ashford.”

“I’ll get the release order,” Jordan told them. She did feel bad about her recent decisions. She should have paid more attention to how tenuous this man’s grip on reality could be when she was invading his psychiatric records.

Elizabeth shook her head. “Too little. Too late. Next time, do your job.” Elizabeth started to go talk to Franco, but she turned back around. “No. There’s not going to be a next time. Franco is no longer the go-to suspect for the PCPD. If he gets so much as a parking ticket, you’ll find yourself in a middle of a harassment suit.  You will pay for this.  Mark my words.”

Elizabeth and Drew followed Dr. Byrne to the cell. They would take Franco to the hospital and, she hoped, he would get back to himself in a few days. She could only hope that knowing he had her support and that Drew, Scotty, and Ava all believed in him would count for something.

 


End file.
